a more like Alejandro, or someone who wanted to live richer one day, Alejandro might have been able to choose him.
But this life never had appeal. The only thing he wants is the man in the tall glass building, which comes into view as soon as the guard drives through the automatic gates. He doesn’t give a shit about the money that comes with Alejandro, or the nice cars, or the pointless gifts. He just wants someone who sees him as a person worthy of love, but where Alejandro’s concerned, that’s a fool’s errand.
Avery’s heart is in his throat, and his palms are sweating, and his delicate Jewish stomach—as his mother always calls it—is already starting to ache. He sort of wishes he dressed better, because the most he did was throw on sweats and a t-shirt after his shower. But he wants to show Alejandro he isn’t going to beg or try to convince him to stay.
Because he isn’t.
No matter how much he wants that, he has some fucking dignity. If the man can’t see what he’s losing in grey sweats and a t-shirt with a faded Ernie and Bert across the front, then he doesn’t deserve the Avery who looks really fucking good in a designer suit. And he certainly doesn’t deserve the Avery who squeezes into leather pants over silk panties.
He lets the driver open the door for him—something else he’s gotten used to whenever Alejandro makes arrangements like this. Of course, a car has never dropped him off here, this building he’s never even heard of with a doorman and shit. He gets a side-eye, but the man doesn’t even ask for ID—he just holds the door and then walks Avery to the elevator where another man is standing. He’s wearing a blue uniform that closely resembles a suit, and he’s got a little name badge that reads Robert on the lapel.
Avery clears his throat and shuffles his feet. “Hi, Robert.” There’s no response, but Robert at least looks at him. “I guess I’m here to see Alejandro Santos? Do you need my ID?”
Clearly Robert doesn’t, because though he doesn’t answer, he steps aside so Avery can get into the elevator. It feels like the movies or something, which is terrifying but he decides to soak up an experience he’s only ever going to have again on the way back down with a huge metaphorical check in his pocket. He’s sad again, he realizes, as Robert’s finger jabs the button with the P on it.
He wonders if Alejandro owns this whole building, and that thought sends him a little off-kilter because it’s easy to forget just how rich he is until moments like this. He says nothing though, he doesn’t look over, he barely breathes. He doesn’t want to humiliate himself in front of someone who has probably seen this happen to a dozen other men just like him.
Avery doesn’t often let himself think how many sugar babies Alejandro has gone through, but it’s moments like these he can’t help but wonder. Has this elevator worker done this before? How many crying people has he escorted out to that car? How many smiling ones?
How many who looked like him?
He wishes he was braver. He tells Alejandro anything and everything, but nothing with real substance, and he regrets that now. Part of him wants to know he left a mark on Alejandro’s life—that there was meaning in this for the older man, even if it was superficial.
Instead, he might vaguely recall Avery’s disgust with Chad the Choad, and how much he hates the buffet in the commons, and how badly Avery still wants to go to Crete. Alejandro might even keep those stupid little trinkets Avery’s gotten him as some sort of tangible proof—like a wooden orca carving in the shape of Avery Was Here.
But it’s not enough.
He curls his hands into fists when the elevator finally comes to a stop, and he lets out a noise of surprise when it honest to god opens up into an apartment. He freezes right there in the little foyer, not quite sure what the hell to do with himself because he feels like he stepped into some 80s movie where the love interest is engaged to some evil rich corporate guy. Only, in his case, he gets jilted, and there’s no quirky IT nerd to sweep him off his feet and make him realize that the humble life is more appealing.
Avery nearly startles out of his skin when Alejandro